


Scar Tissue

by jesslikesthebeatles



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Child Abandonment, Drug Use, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Face-Fucking, Half-Sibling Incest, Incest, M/M, Rape, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Sibling Incest, Swallowing, Swearing, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Underage Sex, Violence, blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-10
Updated: 2014-09-10
Packaged: 2018-02-16 20:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2282844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jesslikesthebeatles/pseuds/jesslikesthebeatles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"And Charles realised that he had always thought that he got the got the better end of the bargain, but he hadn't. There wasn't a better end of the bargain. Erik had spent the last eight years feeling unloved and abandoned, and Charles had spent the last eight years feeling invisible and replaced."<br/> </p><p>PLEASE double check the tags and read the notes before reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scar Tissue

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Hopefully you have double checked the tags, but I wanted to give fair warning of the content of this fic, because there's a lot to it. This is the stuff I feel is worth warning so if any of it bothers you I would recommend you don't read. If not, carry on!  
> \- Charles and Erik are **half-brothers** and have **sexual relations** that are **explicitly described** ; they are are also **romantically** interested in one another  
>  \- Charles is **sixteen** and has regular **consensual** sex with someone who is eighteen/nineteen  
>  \- Charles **drinks** and takes **drugs** (as do other characters)  
>  \- There is a **rape scene** in this fic which is **explicitly described**  
>  \- There is a **self-harm scene** in this fic which is **explicitly described**
> 
> I hope this has outlined the content enough to warn readers, if you don't think it has, PLEASE let me know.

_Soft spoken with a broken jaw_  
 _Step outside but not to brawl_  
 _Autumn's sweet we call it fall_  
 _I'll make it to the moon if I have to crawl and_  
 _With the birds I'll share_  
 _This lonely view..._  
"Scar Tissue", Red Hot Chili Peppers

 

 

Charles doesn't understand it.

One day, he has everything he could possibly need: two loving parents and a protective big brother, Erik. They live in a nice house in the suburbs and they have a tree house and a swing set. Charles wants to be just like his big brother: Erik is a year and a half older but he seems much more to Charles, he seems so big and strong and wise and brave.

When Erik starts school, Charles cries and cries, and sits by the front door, waiting for his return. Their reunion is heart-warming, but Charles is not impressed when the same thing happens the very next day.

Then, suddenly, everything changes. Suddenly Charles is eight and his parents are shouting at each other. They've had their arguments before, but not like this: their mother is practically wailing, and their father is loud and harsh, angrier than the boys have ever heard him before. Charles sits in Erik's lap even though he's getting a bit big for that now, and usually Erik would call him a sissy, and push him away, but his dad's shouts and his mother's cries make him tug Charles in to him, protecting him.

It seems to go on for hours but it stops very suddenly and the house is silent. Charles' breathing is hard and shaky against Erik's chest as he hides his face in his big brother's sweater. Erik is defiantly sitting up straight and waiting for something to happen. When there is movement upstairs, both boys jump; their father comes crashing down the stairs in a rush and stands there, looking at his sons, before he lets out a strangled noise and leaves the house. They listen as his car starts up outside and drives off.

Their mother's cries drift down from upstairs, but the boys stay together, holding on.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Charles finds out the truth when he is thirteen. He asks Auntie Louise, his dad's sister. She is a "cool aunt", according to Charles' grandmother, because Auntie Louise is only twenty-four when Charles talks to her about his brother. She treats Charles like a young man, not a child, and tells him.

Charles' dad isn't Erik's dad. Charles' mum lied. Auntie Louise says that his mother isn't a bad person; she just made a mistake, and that is something Charles needs to remember. He needs to try and understand that people make mistakes and that makes them human. His mother thought she was doing the right thing by pretending her two sons had the same father; she wanted a happy life for them all, and, Auntie Louise reminds Charles, up until Charles was eight, that's exactly what they all had.

That's why Erik was taken away. Charles' dad was so angry, he couldn't stand the thought of being a father to a son that wasn't actually his, and he said that Charles' mum had to choose between him and Erik. So she did. Erik was sent to live with their mum's sister, Aunt Rebecca, who lived on the other side of town. But Charles' dad couldn't forgive his wife, even though he tried, and he left. Then when Erik was asked to come back he refused and so he stayed at Aunt Rebecca's.

Aunt Louise pats her nephew's arm and tells him to remember that his mother and father still love him even though they aren't all together. Charles smiles at her, but the unanswered question hangs in the air.

What about Erik?  
.  
.  
.  
.  
"Stop it, I'll crash the fucking car," Logan groans, taking Charles' hand off of his thigh and putting it back in the younger boy's lap. Charles smirks, rolling his eyes, and leans back in the open top sports car, letting the wind mess up his hair. It's cool for early September, but Charles never had a problem with cooler weather; it was a nice break from the stifling heat of summer.

"Am I parking over on Mason Avenue?" Logan asks, making a right turn. "Can't let mommy see her precious baby boy with a guy like me, huh Chuck?"

Charles smirks. ''I don't want her to have a heart attack _just_ yet, so Mason Avenue it is."

Logan parks them over in the quiet, leafy suburb, and Charles bites at his lip in anticipation as the engine stops. Logan is smirking and Charles barely gives them time to breathe before he's unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding over in to the drivers seat, or more precisely, in to Logan's lap.

"C'mere, let me at that ass," Logan groans, squeezing Charles' backside hard enough to make the younger boy squeak. "You always give the best kisses goodbye."

Charles just kisses him, and Logan opens up for him, pushing his tongue in to Charles' mouth. Charles whimpers lightly, grinding a little against Logan's lap, and gently runs his hands through the older boy's hair. Charles knows that Logan likes it when he's eager. Finally, Charles pullls away, and Logan hums appreciatively.

" _Please_ do your assignment tonight,'' says Charles as he hops out of the car, still a little breathless. "You can't get kicked out of college on the first _week _, Logan."__

"Didn't we have a disussion about nagging being the type of thing a boyfriend does, and you _not_ being my boyfriend?" Logan asks, and Charles cringes. Luckily, Logan sniggers, and Charles reaches back toward the car, swatting at him. 

__"Don't do that, I thought you were really mad," Charles pouts._ _

__Logan starts the car up again. "Baby, if I was mad, you'd know. See you next week."_ _

__"Bye," Charles huffs, and heads in the opposite direction of the car. He hums to himself, thinking about the homework he has to do over the weekend, and as he turns on to his street, he spots a cluster of cars on his driveway, which is unusual. As he gets closer, he spots his mother and stepfather, and then his stepbrother, who he immediately glares at. There is a woman and a boy, though, who Charles does not recognise until he is outside the house._ _

__"Charles! Sweetheart, this is your Aunt Rebecca, I'm sure you remember her," his mother calls out, as Charles reluctantly makes his way up the driveway. She looks pretty much the same, Charles figures: short and slightly overweight, with a bad haircut. She was always pleasant enough, but Charles much preferred his Aunt Louise._ _

__Then he is looking at the boy. Erik, he knows now. His big brother. It's been years since Charles saw him properly: there had been arranged visits, at first, every weekend, then every few weeks, then it was only at family gatherings. Charles thinks back and realises their last meeting was nearly two years ago when their grandmother died. They hadn't really spoken, though: two teenage boys, surrounded by grieving family members, hadn't really had the opportunity. And being honest, Charles didn't want to speak to Erik. He had no reason to._ _

__The last time they saw each other, Erik looked odd, like his body was growing too fast and he hadn't caught up with it yet. He didn't quite fill out the dusty black suit that he had been made to wear for the funeral. Now, though, he seemed to have filled out. His shoulders are broad and wide, and his arms looked fit and muscular underneath a white t-shirt. He seemed very tall, although Charles had always been petite, and his jaw was sharp and covered in stubble._ _

__Charles knew he himself was at least marginally attractive - he was told often, and he never had much trouble finding someone to make out with or have sex with at parties - but he knew that Erik was a different level; Erik was the type of guy Charles would flirt with and hopefully get on his knees for._ _

__"Charles," Aunt Rebecca says after there is no response from either boy. "This is Erik."_ _

__Charles slowly lifts a hand and offers it to Erik. He isn't really sure what the protocol is for being re-introduced to the older brother you've spent half of your life without, but a handshake is pretty custom. The older boy frowns slightly at the gesture but reluctantly shakes his hand. His hand feels big and solid in Charles' and he gulps._ _

__"Erik will be living with us from now on," their mother says, as if she's telling Charles what time she'll be home from work or what her plans are for the weekend. She remains calm and collected and shifts her gaze from her eldest to her youngest son before walking Aunt Rebecca back to her car. With a displeased grunt, Kurt heads back inside, followed by his son._ _

__And that, it seemed, was that.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Aunt Rebecca's husband, Uncle Jasper, had a stroke and needed full-time care. His wife had taken it upon herself to be his carer and this meant that Erik had to go. Aunt Rebecca says that she has grown to care for Erik as a son, but she can't afford to look after him any more, and she has to put her husband first. 

__Kurt and Cain are not pleased. Charles was twelve when he gained a stepfather and a stepbrother, not that he cared for either. Kurt is a strict, boring man who only cared about his business, his son, and his alcohol. He and his wife barely speak except when she wants to use his credit card. Cain hated Charles from the word go, despite him being only a year older, and they had never had a proper conversation._ _

__Their house is more than big enough to accomodate another person, but when Aunt Rebecca leaves, and the five of them stand awkwardly in the hallway, it suddenly feels very cramped. Everyone looks pissed off except for Charles' mother who looks worried. Charles knows she'll be hitting the wine as soon as she could be._ _

__Finally, Kurt sighs. "Cain, start taking Erik's stuff upstairs. He's in the bedroom next to Charles."_ _

__This set things in motion. As Kurt grabs a trunk and Cain grabs two suitcases, Charles glances at Erik, to find his brother already looking at him. Erik looks away, grabbing another suitcase, and heading upstairs._ _

__"I know this is a lot to take in, darling," says Charles' mother, gently stroking her son's arm. "But give Erik a chance."_ _

__Charles watches his brother make his way upstairs and sighs.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
"C'mon, just let me have the rest of the fucking joint, I rolled it," Charles begs, leaning from the backseat of Alex's shitty old car to try and grab the half done joint from Emma. Emma squeals and dodges away, giggling to herself as she resumes toking on it, looking smugly at Charles. 

__"You've had enough, Charles, and we're at your house now, so get the fuck out," says Alex as they pull up outside Charles' house. He groans, struggling to get out from in between Angel and Sean, mumbling a drunken goodbye to them as the car rolls off, music playing._ _

__He stumbles a little as he climbs the driveway and then once inside he tries his best to be quiet. There really isn't much point, though; his mother and Kurt drink enough every night to be dead to the world, and Cain is out at his girlfriend's place, even though they're both supposed to be home by midnight and it is currently approaching four a.m.; they have an unspoken agreement that they don't tattle on each other when it comes to breaking curfew, but in all honesty, Charles isn't sure Kurt or his mother would give a shit if they found out the two boys were out until the early hours._ _

__He's just about to open his bedroom door when the light flicks on. Charles jumps a foot in the air and then breathes a sigh of relief when he sees Erik looking pointedly at him, shirtless and with his hair a mess from laying down. Charles can't help but think how attractive he looks._ _

__"What the _fuck_ , man," is Charles' response._ _

__Erik glares at him. ''You wanna be a bit fucking louder? How do you get away with this shit?"_ _

__Charles rolls his eyes. "Kurt and mommy dearest are drunk out of their wits, dumbass. I do this every week."_ _

__He opens his bedroom door with a flourish, leaving it open, and pretends not to trip over a belt on the floor. He isn't totally wasted; he shared a bottle of vodka and a few joints with Sean, but that was a couple of hours ago now, and it's starting to wear off. He shrugs off his jacket and then tugs his white t-shirt up and over his head. He looks back, expecting Erik to be gone, but he's leaning against the doorway, and his eyes aren't on Charles' face. Something twists in Charles' stomach and he's not sure if it's the booze and weed or the result of Erik's gaze._ _

__"Like what you see, big bro?" Charles purrs, and Erik stands up straight, with a face of thunder._ _

__"Don't be disgusting."_ _

__Charles shrugs. "You're the one watching me undress," he reminds him, and then starts taking off his jeans. This time, when he looks up, Erik is gone, but in the morning, Charles remembers the way he looked.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
"About time, as well," Charles' mother huffs as Charles wanders in to the kitchen, ready for school. "Honey, Erik is starting at your school today, as you know, and I want you to take him to the principal, and then show him around." She's dashing around the kitchen, tidying up before she goes to work. She stops, and as an afterthought, she asks, "How are you two getting along, anyway?" 

__Charles wants to ask her who the fuck she thinks she is, asking about their _feelings_ , when she doesn't give a damn. He wants to ask her how much fucking wine she drank last night while he was out getting high. He wants to tell her to look closer at him because he feels so fucking alone._ _

__Erik looks at Charles._ _

__"Oh, great," Charles grins. "It's been lots of fun. It's like we were never apart. Anyway, mother, aren't you going to be late?"_ _

__She dashes off, then, saying sometihng about them having a good day, and the slam of the door is followed by dead silence as Charles eyes Erik carefully. Hatred flares up Charles' spine as he thinks about his mother._ _

__Erik is sitting moodily at the breakfast table. Finally, with a sigh, Charles hitches his backpack on his shoulder and tells Erik they're going to school now._ _

__"I wonder what mommy would say if she knew what her son was really like," Erik ponders aloud as they walk to school side by side. It's another chilly day for September, but ahead of them a couple of girls are in ridiculously short skirts, and Charles doesn't miss the way that Erik's eyes stick to them for a few seconds before returning to Charles. Charles feels a tiny spark of jealousy, but mostly he watches Erik's eyes, enjoying seeing him in a different light, sexual interest clear on his face._ _

__The younger boy rolls his eyes. "I couldn't give less of a shit, frankly," Charles says, and he's aware of how much of a dick he sounds, but it's the truth. "And besides, you don't know the half of it."_ _

__Erik looks curious despite himself. "Oh, really?"_ _

__Charles smirks. "Yes. Really."_ _

__"Like what? If it's the pot, I smelled that."_ _

__"Oh no, what am I going to do?" Charles giggles. "It's not pot. I mean, yeah, she'd probably freak if she knew about that, but she hasn't got a clue about anything I do," Charles explained. His smile fell as he realised how true the statement was. "In case you haven't noticed, Erik, she doesn't give a shit."_ _

__The air between them is slightly tense now. Charles wonders what Erik expected his mother to be like, after all this time; if he expected her to be cuddly and kind and affectionate. Charles isn't expecting a response from Erik, so his question throws him off._ _

__"Is that why you do it?"  
.  
.  
.  
.  
Word spreads quickly. Charles' friends have never heard him mention a brother, besides Cain, whom he loathes, so for Erik to just suddenly appear and be enrolled at their school is a hot piece of gossip. Charles has third period drama class with Angel and Raven and when Mr. Martin tells them to get in to groups and prepare a short action scene to present to the rest of the class, Charles instead spends the time begrungingly answering the girls' questions about his big brother. 

__"It's funny," says Raven, sneaking a piece of candy from her pants pocket and popping it in to her mouth, "but if Erik wasn't, _you know_ , your brother, you'd probably wanna fuck him, wouldn't you?"_ _

__Angel sniggers. "He probably still does."_ _

__"Wait, isn't he only your _half_ brother?" Raven asks, tilting her head to the side in thought._ _

__Charles opens his mouth to answer, but Angel snaps, "That doesn't make it better!"_ _

__Raven shrugs. "I'm just saying, if I was gonna fuck either my brother, or my _half_ brother, I'd go for the half brother."_ _

__"I would go for _neither_ , because it's _disgusting_ ," scoffs Angel, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. She looks at Charles. "He _is_ hot, though. What's his deal? Straight, gay?"_ _

___" _You__ are with Armando," Raven reminds her friend, nudging Angel in the ribs. This leads Angel to rant about her boyfriend's latest wrongdoing, and then Mr. Martin asks to see everyone's scene. They improvise on the spot. Charles isn't really there, though; he's thinking about Erik, and wondering if wanting to fuck your half-brother really is slightly less disgusting than wanting to fuck your brother. He's not so sure.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
As Charles practically crawls out of school, exhausted, Erik is waiting on the brick wall outside, backpack resting on the ground between his calves. They agreed that they'd walk to and from school together, at their mother's request, at least for the time being. Erik murmurs a greeting, and Charles is tired from classes, and agitated from being asked about his hot big brother all day, so he merely grunts in response and they head off through the car park to go home. When he hears his name being called, Charles turns back, groaning when he sees the majority of his friendship group heading towards them, most of them sporting shit eating grins. 

__"Hey, you must be Erik." Alex is the first to reach them. It could have been worse, Charles thinks as Alex shakes Erik's hand, it could have been-_ _

__"Hello gorgeous," Raven practically purrs, pushing past Alex and getting up in Erik's personal space. Her tank top is pulled down to show off her breasts, and she's wearing a fresh face of make-up, smile wide. Her blonde hair is flowing freely down her back. Charles has to admit she looks gorgeous - he loves her and can never quite stay mad at her - and judging by his facial expression Erik agrees with this assessment._ _

__"Have you met many people yet?" asks Sean, a rolled but unlit joint hanging from his lips. "Dude, come to the party on Friday, we're all going to get wasted, it'll be fun."_ _

__Erik raises an eyebrow at them all. "You guys are the ones Charles went out with at the weekend?"_ _

__"We look innocent, don't we?" Angel winks at him, and Raven glares at her, standing closer to Erik._ _

__"You sure do," laughs Erik. "I can't believe you're the ones being bad influences on my baby brother," his hand comes out then, and ruffles Charles' hair; the first time they've had physical contact in years. Charles jerks back, surprised, as the others laugh._ _

__"Hey, man, if it's not your thing, it's no problem," says Alex, shrugging. "We just let go and have fun. Some of us drink, some of us get high, some of us do both."_ _

"And some of us," says Raven, pointing at Charles, "try to suck off every guy in a twenty mile radius." 

They fall about laughing, then, and Charles rolls his eyes. Erik agrees to come to the party, smiling at them all, and they talk animatedly about what will probably happen and how drunk they'll all get. Charles tries sending them all "fuck off" signals but it doesn't seem to work. Then Raven says something about Erik being built like a Greek god, and the next minute he's flexing his arms for the girls, who giggle and touch his muscles. Erik meets Charles' eyes as Raven is rubbing his arm and Charles glares at him. 

__They eventually leave, Raven looking back at Erik, who smiles even harder at her, and then he and Charles walk home in silence.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
The music flows in to Charles' mind, triggering memories, and he frowns as he blinks against his pillow, confused. The first thought is of his father, and he can see the memory as clearly as if it were happening right in front of him, his daddy, sitting at his oak desk in the smallest room of the house. It smelled of old books and dust because his father hardly used the room. There were two photos on the wall: one of Charles and Erik and their mother at the beach when Charles was a baby, and one of his their mother by herself, young and fresh faced. 

_His father had a beat-up old cassette player on the shelf that was cramped behind the door. Charles, aged five or six, wandered in to the study on a boring rainy weekend, and heard his dad singing softly along to The Smiths. The songs sounded funny to Charles' young ears, not fun or happy songs that he was used to hearing at school or on the television, but sad and whiny. He asked his dad why the man was sad and his dad laughed and said Morrissey was a miserable bastard. Then he cringed and told Charles to never say that word or tell his mother that he said it._

_They sat and listened for a while, until Charles' mother called them for dinner. As Charles sat up in bed, he realised he had fallen asleep after school and it was now dark out, but most importantly, somebody was playing The Smiths. He could hardly imagine Cain listening to them. He climbed off his bed, and through his open bedroom door, where the music was louder. Soon enough he was outside Erik's bedroom door, which was open ajar._

__" _To die by your side is such a heavenly way to die_ ," sang Erik from inside the room. He was doing a half-decent Morrissey impression. Charles wasn't sure what made him push the door open, but he did, and he found Erik lounging on his own bed doing homework, his iPod dock playing away at his desk._ _

__"You like The Smiths?" Charles asks, and then realises it's a pretty stupid question seeing as Erik is _sat listening to them_._ _

__Erik shrugs. "A little," he answers. "I'm not crazy about them like your dad is."_ _

__The words hit Charles like a tonne of bricks and he gulps as he looks at Erik. "He's your dad, too," he says, and Erik glares at him. "I-I mean, I know he _isn't_ , but-"_ _

__"What do you want, Charles?" Erik snaps. He looks tired, Charles realises, but sad too. His mouth seems to be permanently pulled down at the edges._ _

__Charles closes the bedroom door. "They remind me of dad," he says softly._ _

__Erik sighs and looks down at his homework. "Do you still see him?"_ _

__All of a sudden, Charles feels a tight clench on his throat, like he wants to cry. He thinks about how it was for the first few months after Erik left, when his dad was still there, and it wasn't how it used to be because there was no Erik, but he still had both of his parents. He still felt _normal_. Then his dad left and that was it. Charles felt angry all the time. Both parents remarried. Charles gained a stepfather, a stepbrother, a stepmother, a stepsister and two half sisters and yet he felt alone alll of the time, unwanted, cut off. He would go to visit his dad on a Saturday and watch him chase his wife's daughter around the garden, and hold his baby daughters in his arms, and he wondered if those little girls would sing The Smiths with his dad, now, and if his dad would remember that he did that with Charles once._ _

__And Charles realised that he had always thought that he got the got the better end of the bargain, but he hadn't. There wasn't a better end of the bargain. Erik had spent the last eight years feeling unloved and abandoned, and Charles had spent the last eight years feeling invisible and replaced._ _

__"Not really," says Charles. "He has three girls now. One that he's adopted and two he had with his new wife. I used to see him every weekend, then it was once a month, and now it's a birthday card and some money at Christmas,'' he laughs bitterly._ _

__Erik pauses. He looks at Charles. "I'm sorry."_ _

__"Seriously?'' asks Charles, eyebrows raised. "After all the shit that he caused you, you're sorry he doesn't give a shit about me?"_ _

__"He isn't my dad," Erik says softly. "I can't forgive what he did but I understand it. I'm not his flesh and blood. All those years he thought I was his kid and I'm _not_. I used to fucking hate him for it," he runs a hand through his hair, sighing, "But I get it, now. He didn't owe me anything. Some men could do it, they could carry on being a dad to a kid who isn't theirs, but he couldn't do that, so he didn't." He looks at Charles again, then, and there is genuine pity in his eyes. "But you _are_ his. You're his son, and you said it yourself, he doesn't give a shit, and you look so fucking _sad_ , Charles."_ _

__Charles doesn't know what to say so he just stands there. Erik goes back to his homework and The Smiths play on.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
The week goes quickly. It's only September so the classes are still quite new and the routine hasn't quite set back in yet. Charles and Erik walk to school together in the mornings, and Charles plays The Smiths on his cell phone and they talk about which songs they like and which they don't like, and which bands they prefer and which bands they hate. Erik has a thing for Green Day and Charles jokes that he also has a thing for Green Day but his thing is in his pants and isn't so much about their music. But Erik tells him to listen to Dookie and Nimrod, which are his favourite albums of all time, and that if he thinks American Idiot is a good album, he'll love those. 

_Raven tries to seduce Erik at every opportunity and the group have taken bets on how long it'll take them to fuck on Friday night. Charles has between ten and eleven, but he doesn't really care that much. He isn't so annoyed, now, that Erik is going to be there on Friday. Maybe it would be nice for Erik to be part of their group. He can deal with the subconscious attraction that he feels towards his big brother. It's not even as if Charles understands it. He just feels electric whenever he's alone with Erik, or when Erik laughs, or when he's talking excitedly about a band or a song. He feels it in his stomach, like butterflies, like he's missed the bottom step of the staircase and his heart gives a little yelp. He hopes that it will lessen after time._

__By Friday night, everyone is well and truly ready to party. The party is at Sean's house, because his parents go away like ten times a year, and for some bizzare reason they trust Sean to look after the place. Sean has pretty much told everyone and anyone to turn up as long as they bring their own booze and a spliff for him as a thankyou. Hardly anyone ever actually brings him weed, but it isn't like he hasn't got enough of the stuff._ _

__"Potheads, outside, alcoholics, inside!" Sean calls, rubbing his hands together gleefully as the group mills in to the kitchen. Angel is already half-cut, angrily texting Armando as she pours herself a vodka with a dash of Coke. Alex is hijacking Sean's Mac to put on some music, and Raven is already clinging to Erik's arm, telling him how nice his legs look in tight jeans. Emma and Hank - the unlikeliest of friends - are sharing a bottle of wine in the living-room._ _

__"What about those of us who aren't pussies and partake in both?" Charles teases, holding up the bottle of vodka in his hand, and wiggling the unlit joint that was sitting in between his lips. He keeps his eyes on Sean and ignores Raven giggling at something Erik muttered in her ear._ _

__" _We_ can go outside for a joint, then come back in to start drinking," laughs Sean, snatching the roll-up from Charles' mouth and dashing outside. In the living-room, Alex finally puts on some music and there is laughing and cheering. Charles glances at Erik before settng down his bottle of vodka and following Sean outside. He can get high and then find someone to fuck later. _ _

__After sharing a couple of spliffs with Sean and debating whether pirates or cowboys are more badass, Charles stumbles back in to the house, grinning softly as he poured himself a large vodka and orange juice. He downs a glass quickly and efficiently before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and heading upstairs to take a piss. The music is loud - somebody has put on Marilyn Manson, what the fuck? - and as Charles shakily climbs the stairs he is trying to figure out which of his friends even _likes_ Marilyn Manson._ _

__He feels light and peaceful and happy. Pot used to just be an occasional thing, when he first met Sean, but now it's pretty much every party or gathering, and sometimes Charles goes over to Sean's and gets high with him during the week. Raven warns him that getting high and drunk at the same time isn't doing him any favours but he ignores her. He can do what he likes._ _

__Charles fumbles with the bathroom door and then he's at the toilet, about to undo his flies, when he glances over by the bath and spots Raven on her back, leaning up against the side of the bath, her skirt pulled up to her waist. Erik's head is nestled between her thighs, and Charles can _hear_ what he's doing. Suddenly, his stomach lurches._ _

___"Oh _shit__ ," Charles gasps, turning, losing his balance due to the pot. He falls back on to the toilet seat with a grunt, and Raven and Erik are struggling to their feet to help him. Charles' head feels so floaty and light, he thinks it's going to fly away from his shoulders. He briefly registers Erik saying something to him before he slumps forward and vomits all over the bathroom door. There is a shriek from Raven and then Charles blacks out.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
"He's fine, Erik, honestly. This happens a lot," Raven is saying. Charles recognises her voice despite it being behind him. He's laid on a bed on his side - in the recovery position, he realises - and the light is on above his head, too bright and borderline painful. It comes back to him, the bathroom, the puking. He wonders how long he's been out. 

_"He fucking _faints_ 'a lot'?" Erik asks, outraged. _

__Raven sighs. "I can tell you don't smoke weed," she says. Charles wants to laugh, because she's right, Erik sounds seriously boring, but his face feels numb and strange, like it isn't his. He's used to this, though. It's happened so many times he's lost count. He has to wait it out, wait for the drugs to wear off, and then get some goddamn water and he'll be fine._ _

__"I've smoked pot before," Erik argues, but he doesn't sound very convincing._ _

__"He whitied," Raven explains. "It can happen whether it's your fist spliff or if you smoke it every day of your life, it doesn't make a difference. Sometimes it just kind of catches you and fucks you up. Especially as he's been drinking so much too. It happens a lot, we're used to it, Erik. Charles smokes too much weed and drinks too much booze too fast, and then he pukes, or faints, or cries, or all of them. Then he lies down, has a nap, has water, or some food, and then he's okay again."_ _

__Erik sighs. "It's fucked up," he says. "Why does he _do that_ if he's going to fucking pass out?"_ _

__There's a pause. Charles wants to speak, wants to say, _please don't discuss how fucked up I am_ , but he can't find the energy. He feels like the conversation between Erik and Raven is in his head and not happening a few metres away from him._ _

__"He doesn't _talk_ ," Raven says, sounding close to tears. "Your mom doesn't give a shit, his dad abandoned him, he has sex with any guy that wants him because he wants... Affection, I guess. It has to come out somewhere, Erik," Raven sighs._ _

__There's rustling and Raven's sniffling. Charles figures they are probably hugging. He mentally sighs, wondering when the hell it got to this, when the hell did he become a fucking sob story? When did his life go from "rebellious, promiscuous kid" to "fucked up, depressed young adult"?_ _

__After a while, Raven heads back downstairs, and Erik sits on the bed beside Charles. He isn't sure how much time passes, how long it takes, but eventually Charles comes out of it; he turns on to his back and stretches, looking bleary-eyed at his brother on the bed next to him. Erik rummages in his jeans pocket and passes Charles something - a single mint. Charles rolls his eyes and pops it in his mouth, chomping on it._ _

__"You fucking idiot."_ _

__Charles frowns at Erik and then rubs his forehead. "No sympathy then?"_ _

__" _Sympathy_?" Erik barks, sitting up. "You want fucking sympathy for smoking drugs and downing vodka and then fucking puking on your friend's _floor_? I cleaned that up, by the way, you're welcome."_ _

__Charles shakily sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed. "Fuck you, yeah? I didn't ask you to clean up my puke, I didn't _ask_ you to sit with me all night while there's a fucking party downstairs, you fucking _loser_."_ _

__He's barely got to his feet when Erik grabs at him, a large hand at his shoulder pushing back on to the bed. Charles goes limp, falling on to the bed, and Erik pushes at him again, snarling._ _

__"I fucking _care about you_ , you piece of shit," he hisses. He's on the bed, then, and Charles tries his best to fight him off, but he's still not back in the real world, he's still shaky and feels half asleep._ _

__They shove at one another, hurling insults, until Charles finds his way on top, straddling Erik and holding him at his shoulders. Later, he will realise that Erik probably let him - Erik is a lot stronger anyway and Charles is still a little out of it - but it doesn't occur to him then, as he glares down at his brother._ _

__"You need someone to care," Erik murmurs, looking up at him, " _I_ care, Charles."_ _

__"No, no, you don't-"_ _

___"I _do__ ," Erik swears, and then he's leaning up, looking in to Charles' eyes. And Charles doesn't know who kisses who. He doesn't know if he leans down or Erik leans further up, but before he realises it, they're kissing, and Erik has his hands on Charles' hips and his tongue in Charles' mouth, and they both have a whole new thing to deal with now.  
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Charles tugs Logan's hand, practically dragging him up the driveway to his house, and then up the stairs to his bedroom. It's Monday afternoon, and Charles is going to do something he's never done before: he's going to have sex with Logan in his house. 

__"You sure they're out?" Logan asks once they're in Charles' bedroom. He watches, one eyebrow raised, as Charles starts taking off his clothes._ _

__"For fuck's sake, yes," Charles groans, shirt flying over his head and on to the floor. He peels off his skinny jeans and then he's in his boxer shorts. The look he gives Logan vaguely resembles a lion looking at its prey._ _

__He's on his knees, Logan's back pressed against Charles' bedroom door. Logan doesn't seem so interested in where Charles' family are any more as he threads his fingers through Charles' hair. Charles eagerly undoes Logan's belt and then pulls down the zipper, grinning when he reveals boxer shorts and a half-hard cock hidden underneath. He leans forward, nuzzling Logan's erection, which makes the older boy groan, and then he's reaching in and pulling down the boxer shorts so Charles can get his mouth on Logan's dick._ _

__"Oh, fuck," sighs Logan. "Oh god. I'd ask where you got so good at this but I kinda already know."_ _

__Charles chuckles around Logan's cock and deepthroats him, holding him at the base as he slides up his length and then taking his hand away when he's got all of his cock in his mouth. He pulls back a little, swirling his tongue against the sensitive head; blinks up at Logan, eyes wide. Logan always likes that. Charles knows that Logan is close when he starts with the dirty talk so he keeps going, bobbing his head, hand and mouth moving in time._ _

__"Fuck," Logan pants. "God, you like sucking my cock, don't you, gorgeous? Little cockslut."_ _

__Charles speeds up, swallowing Logan down and then hollowing his cheeks as he pulls off, licking at him. When Logan's hands tighten in his hair, Charles dives forward, just in time to swallow down Logan's come. When he's finished, he pulls off, leaning back and opening his mouth so that Logan can see it's totally empty. The older boy groans at this, still panting._ _

__"You are the sluttiest kid I've ever met," Logan tells him. Charles' cheeks flush but he doesn't know if it's from embarrassment or pride._ _

__He climbs to his feet, then turns around, pushes his ass in to Logan's crotch and his back against Logan's chest. Logan hises a little - his cock is still out and it's sensitive now he's had his orgasm - but he obliges, reaching one hand to pull Charles in closer by his hip as the other hand dives in to Charles' boxer shorts and starts to jerk him off. Logan's hand is fast and sure as he makes a fist and pumps him. The noises are obscene as Logan works him and Charles groans helplessly, leaning his head back so that Logan can kiss his throat as he gets him off._ _

__Charles tries desperately not to think of Erik. He tries not to think of how Erik's hands are a bit bigger, how Erik kisses, and how Erik looked after they had finished kissing, like Charles was a Christmas present that Erik had opened too soon. Guilt, but curiousity; disgust, but attraction._ _

__He tries to focus on Logan but it's Erik that makes him come, the thought of Erik fucking him, touching him, anything. As Charles pants, coming down from his orgasm, Charles hears the front door slam._ _

__''It's my brother," Charles explains after a few seconds. "It's fine."_ _

__Logan is doing up his jeans while Charles pulls his own clothes back on. "Cain? He'll go crazy, Charles, are you stupid?"_ _

__Charles shakes his head. "It's not Cain," he says, and pushes past Logan to jog down the stairs._ _

__He finds Erik in the kitchen, reaching in to the fridge for a can of soda. Erik looks over at him, then his face darkens as he spots Logan, looking very obviously post-coital. The soda is placed on the kithen island with a loud bang._ _

__"Erik, this is-"_ _

__"Charles," Logan cuts in, putting a hand on Charles' shoulder, "skip the formalities. I'll see you later."_ _

__He's out of the door, then, and Charles can only stare at Erik, the two of them left in the kitchen. The clock on the wall ticks loudly and Charles can hear Logan's car starting up outside._ _

__"Your boyfriend seems like an asshole," Erik snorts, picking up the soda again and taking a sip._ _

__Charles folds his arms. "He's not my boyfriend, we're just fucking, you know that."_ _

___Erik smirks. "How romantic," he sniggers, walking past Charles to go upstairs to his room. Anger bubbles in Charles' chest and there is so much he wants to say, but he can't find the words. He doesn't know what needs to be said. He just knows that something does._  
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Erik is due to turn eighteen at the beginning of November and Charles will turn seventeen in the following May. Towards the end of September, their mother asks Erik if he would like anything specific for his birthday, or if there is anything he'd like to do. Erik remains polite but vague: he doesn't much care for birthdays and doesn't want anything in particular, either as a present or as a celebration. Their mother looks irritated, but doesn't speak any more of it: she tells Erik she'd like to take him for a meal - "with the other boys, of course" she says, smiling at Kurt, Cain, and Charles - and he will of course receive presents, but if he doesn't want any more fuss, that is fine. 

__The two boys keep each other at arm's length. They walk to and from school together, each listening to their own music, occasionally commenting on a band or an album. At school, they sometimes hang around with Charles' friends, but Erik has made some other friends in his own grade, so it's not an everyday occurance. It's okay, though; Charles talks to Raven and Angel the most, and Erik prefers the company of Alex and Sean, apart from when he's fucking Raven._ _

__Slowly, some sort of balance is formed. Erik will knock on Charles' bedroom door to ask for help on a question for his physics homework, because he hates science and Charles loves it; and Charles tells Erik he's listened to Dookie _and_ Nimrod, repeatedly, and he prefers Nimrod, but he likes both. Some nights, when nobody else is in, they make dinner together and then do their homework while they watch Lost or Game of Thrones or Supernatural._ _

__And it's good, it is, but it's not enough, and Charles wonders if it's eating Erik up the way it's eating him up. He wonders if Erik watches him when he's talking and laughing, like Charles watches Erik; he wonders if Erik thinks about their kiss when he's jerking off in the shower or when he's having sex with somebody else. Because Charles does. Charles doesn't know when Erik began to take up every single thought in his head._ _

__Charles doesn't know what he's hoping to achieve when he buys the vinyl record. It's a signed copy of Dookie, which Erik had stated is his favourite album of all time, and Charles tries not to think about how much he's paid for it. Not that he's particularly short of money - his mother may not seem to care all that much about him but she keeps his bank account reasonably full - but still._ _

__Erik's birthday is on a Friday. They're being forced to go out for a meal with their mother, Kurt, and Cain after school, but straight after they were being dropped off at Sean's for a "sleepover" - Charles intended to get as high as a kite - so it was worth a couple of agonising hours to be practicially given permission to get drunk with their friends. On Thursday night, while Erik is showering, Charles slips in to his bedroom and puts the vinyl on the bed. He considers writing a note but in the end he just leaves the present and goes to bed._ _

__He tells himself not to think about Erik. He does his homework, listens to some music, chats to some of his friends on Facebook, and he pretends he doesn't care about Erik's response, but it's at the back of his mind constantly, the look on Erik's face when he finds the record, the realisation that it's from Charles, the implications._ _

__Charles turns in around midnight, turns off his bedroom light and gets in to bed, cell phone put on charge. He's barely gotten comfortable when there's the sound of a door opening in the hallway and then his own bedroom door is opening. Charles' heart thumps loudly in his chest as he sits up in bed._ _

__"Did I wake you?" Erik asks, edging in to the room like he isn't sure if he should. He closes the door softly behind him. Charles can only see him because he forgot to close his blinds and the moonlight is shining on him, but it just makes him look even better, shirtless and pale. And Charles can't help but stare._ _

__"No," he says honestly. He bites gently at his lip. "Did you get your present?"_ _

__Erik shuffles awkwardly on the spot. "I.. I did. Charles..."_ _

__"It's alright," Charles sighs. "I wasn't declaring my love for you or anything."_ _

__Erk groans at that and comes to sit on the edge of the bed, turned slightly towards Charles. It's the first time _this_ \- and Charles doesn't even know how to describe it or what to call it, short of _highly inappropriate incestuous crush_ \- has been mentioned by either of them despite it happening almost a month ago._ _

__They look at each other and to Charles it feels like the type of things he's read about in Raven's girlie magazines: the shiver up his spine, the pound of his heart like it's going to burst through his ribcage, the hot pool of desire low in his stomach. The boy - no, _man_ \- he sees before him doesn't register as "brother" in his brain. He doesn't see a family member, a guy who is off limits, he sees a hot, interesting man who has been hurt and abandoned just like Charles, who understands the world the way that Charles does._ _

__He wonders what Erik sees when he looks at Charles. He wants, desperately, to ask._ _

__"It's a very thoughtful gift, Charles," says Erik after a while. His gaze moves, briefly, to Charles' bare torso, but goes back to his face quickly. "I really appreciate it. But I just can't accept it and I think you know that I shouldn't."_ _

__Charles huffs. "Why not? It's not- I'm not trying to _buy_ you, Erik-"_ _

__"I didn't say that," Erik's voice is quiet but calm. "But this is... It's just..."_ _

___What?_ thinks Charles, staring at the back of Erik's head. _What is it? Can you explain it? Because I haven't got a clue.__ _

__"This can't go any further," Erik says finally, and he stands, gulping._ _

__Before Charles has thought about it he's pushing his sheets away and scrambling towards the edge of the bed, grabbing Erik's forearm and attempting to pull him back toward the bed, pained expression on his young face. Erik is clearly surprised by this action as he simply looks at Charles, his mouth open._ _

__"Please, stay," Charles begs, and he gives a tug, so that Erik staggers to the bed again. Charles expects him to pull away but he doesn't, he goes willingly, crawls on to the bed in his sweatpants. Charles kicks the sheets away so that they can both lie under them, their legs covered but their bare torsos exposed. The bed is a double but it feels so much smaller with another body in it, with Erik laying there, curled on to his side so that he and Charles are facing each other._ _

__There is so much that Charles wants to say but he doesn't understand it enough to trust himself to speak. He wants to know how Erik feels, wants to understand where Erik is at, but he has no way of knowing and no courage to ask._ _

__"I shouldn't have let you kiss me," Erik whispers, and Charles blinks at him. He didn't expect Erik to mention the kiss._ _

__"I wasn't sure who kissed who, really," admits Charles. He looks at Erik's face, so chiselled and masculine, sharp features and beautiful eyes. Charles remembers him from before, but not like this, not so perfect._ _

__"There were so many reasons why it was wrong," Erik says, and he looks so pained, so ashamed of what happened. "As if the... As if the _incest_ isn't bad enough, you were out of your fucking wits from the weed and booze, and you're underage."_ _

__Charles rolls his eyes at that, inclining his body slightly away from Erik's. "For fuck's sake, this again? Erik, are you seriously telling me you've never done anything with anyone under seventeen?"_ _

__"Not since I turned seventeen myself, no," Erik answers him, jaw set. "I know you think it's fucking impressive, Charles, that you're not legally old enough to consent to sex and yet your college boyfriend is fucking you every night-"_ _

__"You fucking listen to me, now," Charles cuts in, turning back to face Erik completely. "I don't know why this is so fucking _diffficult_ for you to comprehend, but Logan is not my boyfriend. We fuck. There are no feelings involved on either side. It's just sex. _Stop_ calling him my boyfriend."_ _

__A heavy silence follows. Erik sighs and Charles just glares at him. Charles thinks of when they kissed, and how it was afterwards, with barely a word said between them, and certainly nothing of importance. He figures that if that happens again he might as well use this opportunity to actually say what he needs to say instead of letting the chance slip away again._ _

__"It seems to me that my age bothers you more than the fact that I'm your brother," Charles tells him, and Erik's eyes are hard and cold as he looks back at Charles._ _

__"Of _course_ that bothers me. You're my little brother, Charles, and the thought of what we did-"_ _

__"But do you see me as your brother?" Charles interrupts. "Because I don't see you as mine. Obviously, I know that we have the same mother, but when I look at you, Erik, I don't see the little boy that I used to play Lego with. I don't see you and think 'oh, there he is, my big bro'. As far as I'm concerned, I don't have a brother."_ _

__Erik's breathing is heavier as he asks, "What do you see when you look at me, Charles?"_ _

__And Charles thinks, this is it. This is his chance to tell Erik how he feels. And it might not work out - it probably won't, he thinks bitterly - but Erik is asking and Charles is nothing if not truthful. He's never been like this; he's never shy or awkward, especially not with guys who he finds attractive. He's always so sure of himself, so cheeky and bold, but with Erik there's more than just sexual attraction there, there are feelings, too._ _

__He tries to talk to Erik the way he'd talk to a guy at a party, but even as he speaks, he struggles to maintain eye contact, and his voice wobbles just slightly. "I see... I see someone I care for," Charles tells him. "Someone who, someone I find attractive, somebody I would really like to h-have sex with. Someone who _understands_."_ _

__Erik's cheeks are slightly flushed, even in the pale moonlight, and Charles can hear both of their breathing now, and it sounds so loud in the quiet bedroom._ _

__"You can't, you can't think those things, Charles," Erik whispers. He looks pained, a frown pulling at his face, like he can't quite believe that this conversation is actually happening. "The sex stuff is just, it's so _wrong_. And as for the other stuff, about me understanding you, well that's probably true, but it doesn't mean we have to fuck."_ _

__"You don't have to tell me it's wrong, you know," Charles snaps. "I am aware of it. I know that incest is fucking disgusting, and I know that I am a grand total of six months underage, but it doesn't stop me from wanting you, it doesn't stop me _thinking_ about you."_ _

__Erik lets out a pained sound and props himself up on one elbow, suddenly looking down at Charles. "I am a terrible person," he says, "because it doesn't stop me, either."_ _

__It takes Charles a few seconds to realise what Erik is saying, that he is being given the green light, but when it connects in his brain he can barely breathe, his hands trembling just slightly. He acted out a few scenarios in his brain before he put the record on Erik's bed - Erik hitting him, Erik calling him disgusting - but this wasn't an outcome that he had considered. He was almost certain that Erik was at least partially attracted to him but he never expected anything to happen, not after the kiss at Sean's party._ _

__"It doesn't matter, to me," Charles whispers. He has never felt so open and honest in his life, so truthful to himself, not hiding behind crudeness or fake confidence. "It doesn't matter that you're my-- who you are, it really doesn't. What matters to me is how you make me feel."_ _

__"And how do I make you feel?" Erik presses. He reaches out one hand, gently cups Charles' jaw, and Charles leans in to the touch, flushing at how intimate that simple action is, more intimate than so many other things he has done before with random, nameless men._ _

__"Like I matter," Charles admits, his voice so quiet and uncertain. "Like I... Like I can stop showing off, and being a dick, and entertaining the crowd, and just be me. God that sounds lame."_ _

__Erik chuckles, his thumb gently stroking Charles' cheek. "It doesn't sound lame. You've never had this before - neither of us have, really - and it's not how you're used to feeling. I can't believe I've only been back in your life for a few months, Charles. I feel like we've been like this for years."_ _

__"I feel that way too," Charles whispers, "I feel like I'm better when you're here."_ _

__Erik looks at Charles like he is made of something valuable and amazing. "It doesn't matter how we feel, though, you know that, don't you? It doesn't matter that we both want each other. What matters is that we're brothers and _nothing_ can happen."_ _

__Charles concentrates on how Erik's thumb feels, gently stroking his jaw, his hand big and wide against his face. It makes him shiver, makes him gulp like he's nervous, like a virgin about to take the plunge. He aches for Erik. He wants to feel those hands on his backside, wants to kiss him hard and rough while Erik pounds him, pulling Charles' legs around his waist. He wants to feel Erik inside him, and in his hand, and in his mouth, and he wants to pleasure him, and make him forget that there is anyone else on the planet capable of making him feel like that._ _

__He's edging closer before he realises, drunk on desire, and it takes Erik by surprise when Charles kisses him. It's only chaste but it's a kiss nonetheless and the older boy pulls back._ _

__"What did I just fucking say?"_ _

__Charles grunts, moving his hand up to Erik's hair. "I don't give a shit any more, Erik," he says, "I want you. I _need_ you."_ _

__The thing is, Charles expects to be pushed away again. He expects Erik to get up and leave. Charles can't carry on pretending that their relationship is purely platonic any more, he needs more than that, but he doesn't expect Erik to go with it._ _

__When Charles pushes his tongue in to his brother's mouth, he is met with no resistance; Erik lets him. Charles doesn't understand - wasn't Erik just saying they can't do this again? - but he isn't going to ruin it. He isn't going to _stop_ when Erik is clearly acting with his dick instead of his brain for once._ _

__He runs his fingers through Erik's hair as they make out. Erik is a fantastic kisser: he nips at Charles' bottom lip, which makes the younger boy groan, and he still has his hand on Charles' jaw, still holding him in place. When Charles daringly reaches down to rub at Erik's half-hard dick through his sweatpants, Erik breaks free of Charles' mouth to groan, and Charles darts forward, peppering hard little kisses over Erik's throat._ _

__Charles can feel Erik swelling under his hand. If he's going to show off his skills, he's going to show Erik exactly what he can do, and how good he is at it._ _

__He pushes at Erik's shoulder until the older boy lays on his back, his toned chest heaving slightly as he pants. Charles takes a second to admire him - seriously, he's so hot - and then he grabs the waistband of Erik's sweatpants and tugs them down._ _

__"Huh," says Charles. "So you came here to tell me we can't do anything sexual together, and you decided to do that without wearing any underwear?"_ _

__"Fuck you, I never wear underwear to bed," Erik scowls. Charles wraps a hand around Erik's dick. It's big, and Charles isn't usually much of a size queen - he's rather fond of the "it's not the size but how you use it that matters" motto - but he can't help staring at the length of him, the flushed head, the little drop of precome at the tip._ _

__"Well," Charles breathes, and then he leans down to lick at said precome. Erik yelps, brings a hand to cover his mouth, his hips bucking up and pushing his cock in to Charles' face. Charles manouvers himself on the bed so that he's kneeling between Erik's spread knees, grabs Erik's hand to put in his hair, and then sets to work._ _

__Charles loves anal sex, but his favourite sexual act to perform is a blowjob. It's the satisfaction of giving someone that amount of pleasure and doing it well. He especially enjoys deepthroating and swallowing, not particularly for him, but for the gratitude he receives from the other guy; the disbelief on their faces when he gets all of their cock in his mouth, the gasp of amazement as he swallows down their come, and the aroused groan when he shows them his empty mouth._ _

__Erik is no exception. Charles takes him to the root on the first go, and Erik's hand tightens in his hair, his chest heaving. Charles holds him in hand as he starts bobbing his head, encouraging Erik to grip his hair. When he doesn't seem to get it, Charles pulls off him with a wet pop._ _

__"Fuck my mouth," Charles orders, licking his lips at Erik. "Put your hand in my hair and then move my head back and forth on your dick."_ _

__Erik is looking at him in pure disbelief. Charles imagines it's all a bit much for him - five minutes ago Erik was saying they could never do anything sexual together and now he's being deepthroated - but his own cock is throbbing between his legs and he needs to distract himself._ _

__He wraps his hand around Erik's hard cock again and sucks him, hollowing his cheeks. As instructed, Erik grabs a handful of Charles' hair, and starts bucking up in to the tight, wet heat of Charles' mouth. It's not particularly comfortable, but Charles focuses on Erik: his short, loud, desperate grunts, the sound of his cock wetly slipping between Charle's open lips. Charles' head is startingn to ache but he doesn't care: he knows Erik will remember this for a long, long time._ _

__Erik's thrusts become faster, and his other hand joins the one on Charles' head, pushing it back and forth at speed, until Erik lets out what can only be described as a wail as he brings Charles' mouth to the base of his dick, and comes fast, shooting out against Charles' throat. Charles swallows quick but starts to cough despite himself. Erik falls limp, and Charles releases himself from his spent dick, wheezing a little._ _

__It's silent besides their panting. Erik's face is turned away from Charles'. Charles is hard, achingly so, and he looks at Erik's body, glistening with sweat. He's unsure as to what he is allowed to do._ _

__Barely two minutes has passed when Erik shakily gets to his feet and pulls up his sweatpants. A horrified shiver shoots down Charles' spine. He can tell, by the look on Erik's face and the hideous tension in the room, that this isn't going to go the way he hoped._ _

__"This isn't happening again," Erik tells him, and he goes to leave, just like that._ _

__Charles stumbles off of the bed. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he demands, reaching to grab Erik's arm. Erik turns on him, pushing him, hard, back to the bed. Charles falls on to the mattress with an expression of utter disbelief._ _

__"For fuck's sake, do you know how _wrong_ this is?" Erik spits. He looks angrier than Charles has ever seen him._ _

__"Aren't you over that yet? Jesus Christ, I thought we'd established that this is _wrong_. It doesn't matter. I still want it, you still want it, let's just-"_ _

__"Let's just what?" Erik hisses, coming close to Charles, eyes wide. "Let's just fuck anyway? Let's run away together? Do you even understand? This is _disgusting_ , Charles! It's vile and horrible!"_ _

__"You know, it's funny, but it wasn't vile and horrible when your cock was halfway down in my throat," Charles snarls. "You're a fucking hypocrite. You'll fuck my mouth but you won't touch me or show any sign of reciprocation? Because it's wrong, it's wrong, it's wrong. You're a fucking coward."_ _

__They stand, simply staring at each other, for a few long seconds. Erik has little red marks on his throat and jaw where Charles kissed him, and Charles' lips are a bright pink from giving head. Charles desperately wants Erik to change his mind and say that they can carry on whatever this is between them. But he knows in his heart that that isn't what Erik is going to say._ _

__"This is disgusting, and wrong," says Erik. His voice is softer. He doesn't look at Charles. "It will not happen again. Stay away from me, Charles."_ _

___Those last five words seem to echo in the room long after Erik has marched out._  
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Charles doesn't sleep that night. He calls Logan, but there is no answer, so he spends the night in his room, turning the events from earlier round and round in his mind. By morning, he can't stand it any more. He gets to school a little before seven a.m. and spends the next hour and a half in the library doing homework. None of it is urgent, but it's better than thinking. 

__The day passes slowly. He talks to Raven about a new senior, Azazel, who she thinks is hot. He listens to Angel complaining yet again about Armando. He laughs with Alex in English Lit, he performs an experiment with Hank in Chemistry, and he helps Emma with her French homework at lunch. He ignores Erik, but in truth he hardly sees him; he feigns an overlooked essay and spends lunch in the library._ _

__After school, Charles doesn't wait for Erik, instead opting to go straight home and lock himself in his room. He hears Erik arrive home twenty minutes later. Charles showers and charges his phone. He thinks about texting Logan but he doesn't want to seem eager so he doesn't bother._ _

__They're leaving for the family meal at six. At five thirty, Charles heads downstairs, and he knocks back a few shots of vodka. It's not enough for anybody to notice, especially with his drinking habits, but the alcohol feels good against his throat, and he feels calmer._ _

__The restaurant is nice. Charles orders the lightest courses he can find so that the alcohol and pot will affect him more later on. He jokes about being on a diet while mentally congratulating himself on thinking ahead._ _

__Their mother prattles on about colleges and grades and how important the next few months will be for Cain and Erik as they're both seniors. Erik agrees and looks interested in all the right places but Charles can feel his brother gazing at him whenever the two of them aren't involved in the conversation. Charles forces himselt not to care._ _

__They are dropped off outside Sean's just after nine. They can hear laughter and music from inside already._ _

__As they walk up the driveway, Erik stops to look at Chares. "Charles, wait-"_ _

__"Fuck you," Charles hisses immediately, approaching the door and walking straight in, as Sean had told them to do on such occasions. He didn't look back at Erik. Tonight wasn't about him._ _

__He's barely entered the house before Sean is tugging him on to the back yard, two fat spliffs rolled and ready to go, and half empty bottle of vodka in his hand. Charles takes a few large gulps of the vodka as Sean takes the first tokes. It burns his throat, flowing down in to his stomach._ _

__"Fuck, dunno how you do that," Sean tuts, blowing smoke off on to the garden. "I know you like your vodka but sheesh, man."_ _

__Charles wants to say _shut the fuck up and give me a spliff_ but he doesn't. He keeps knocking back the vodka. When Sean has had a few tokes, he passes it to Charles, who in turn passes him the vodka. Charles takes a generous amount of tokes, holding the smoke in his lungs and closing his eyes at the feel of it burning._ _

__A little later, Raven comes out to say hi, and Charles tries to act normal but he's so focused on getting wasted that he honestly doesn't care about her presence. Raven looks vaguely annoyed but soon disappears back inside. As she's leaving, Charles' cell phone rings._ _

__"Hello, gorgeous." It's Logan. "Listen, what are you doing tonight?"_ _

__Charles glances down at the now empty bottle of vodka. Granted, Sean had a few gulps, but it was mostly Charles. "Getting absoluely wasted," he answers honestly, "and hopefully getting fucked."_ _

__"Well, you can count on that last one," Logan's chuckle is deep and throaty, Charles can tell he's already had alcohol. "Come over to Tony's. He's having a party and we're all getting wasted. Come and play with the big boys instead of your little school friends."_ _

__Charles lets the last comment slide and huffs down the phone at him. "I'm already high and drunk, Logan, I can't get across town like this."_ _

__There's shouting and cheering in the background and then Logan is laughing. "What? Oh, right, I'll order you a cab, just don't look fucking wasted and don't bring any attention to yourself. I'll text you the address. Get your pretty ass over here before I'm too drunk to fuck you."_ _

__Charles shivers at that. That's exactly what I need, he thinks as he hangs up, a nice good fuck, lots of booze, and some random people who don't know me._ _

__He leaves Sean sprawled out on the back yard blinking up at the night sky and waltzes in to the living-room where he finds Raven making out with her latest conquest, Azazel, on one couch, and Angel making out with Alex on the other. The music is loud but Alex reaches over to turn it down when Charles yells that he's leaving._ _

__"What the hell?'' asks Alex. "It's eleven p.m., Charles, why the fuck are you leaving?"_ _

__Charles' phone vibrates as Logan texts him Tony's address. "I'm going to a party with Logan," he says._ _

__Raven glares at him. "So a party with your fuck buddy is more important than spending time with your real friends?"_ _

__Charles genuinely laughs at that, which makes Raven angrier, and Alex and Angel exchange looks. "My real friends? You mean the ones who have spent all night in _here_ , making out with each other, instead of with me?"_ _

__She actually disentangles herself from Azazel then and gets to her feet, somewhat shakly due to the alcohol. "Are you fucking kidding me? You get here, you head straight outside to get high, I even _make the effort_ to come out and say hello to you, and what do I get? Hardly any fucking response. Well you can get _fucked_. Your brother is upstairs fucking Emma three ways from Sunday, by the way, not that you noticed he wasn't here, because you are so wrapped up in yourself."_ _

__She storms past him, and Charles watches her go, bewildered. He always has Raven, no matter what. Now what?_ _

___Outside, the cab driver honks his horn, and Charles glances briefly at Alex and Angel before stomping out of Sean's house and getting in to the cab._  
.  
.  
.  
.  
As soon as Charles wakes up, he knows something is wrong. 

__The bedroom is dark and quiet but Charles can hear the party still in full swing outside the door. He's laying underneath the dozens of jackets that had been carelessly thrown in there earlier. Charles' head is heavy and sluggish as he wakes, but he doesn't feel right, and as he blinks open his eyes, his ears pick up on heavy breathing._ _

__All at once, his body wakes up. He realises his skinny jeans have been tugged down to his knees. His boxers are alongside them, no longer covering his crotch, and Charles is about to reach down and pull them up when he feels a single finger circle his hole and then enter him to the root._ _

__He cries out. The first thing he thinks is, _I'm being raped_._ _

__"S'alright, Chuck."_ _

__The voice is incredibly slurred but there's no mistaking who is touching Charles. His body runs cold. He starts to move, but his body feels limp and heavy; with a sudden jolt of horror, Charles realises he took cocaine a few hours ago. Well, he assumes it was a few hours ago; he has no sense of time now. He just remembers arriving at Tony's, being introduced to numerous people, making out with Logan a little bit, and a few other guys, and there was so much booze. Some guys were shotting tequila so Chares joined them even though he hates the stuff; Logan was drinking his usual Jack Daniels and he let the older boy pour it directly in to his mouth; he was given a glass of red wine by a girl in a bra and denim shorts and he happily knocked it back._ _

__He had a few tokes off of people's spliffs here and there, and then some guy was doing coke. Logan was doing it, too, and when he made a comment about how Charles probably wouldn't partake because he was only a little kid, he decided to prove him wrong. He copied Logan. He covered one nostril and then snorted the white substance up his nose with the other, frowning and wiggling his nose afterwards. The experience wasn't entirely pleasant. But soon enough Charles felt even better than he did after a splif, relaxed but not sleepy, in fact if anything he felt like talking to every single person in the room._ _

__He must have crashed at some point. Now he's in a random bedroom, in the apartment of a guy he didn't know, and Logan is wasted and touching him._ _

__"I love how tight y'are, Charles, you're so hot and tight," Logan sighs. He comes back with two fingers, and the drugs and alcohol certainly help conceal the burn, but Charles still winces. He may like it rough, occasionally, but there is a difference between rough sex and unprepared sex._ _

__''Logan..."_ _

__Logan stills. Charles waits for him to ask if he wants it, if he's okay, if he should continue. But Logan doesn't speak. Instead, he starts scissoring his fingers. Charles groans, tries to shy away, but he's too wasted. He can barely move._ _

__"M'gonna fuck ya," Logan murmurs, and Charles' heart starts beating fast. "Gonna fuck that gorgeous ass."_ _

__Charles tries to speak, tries to tell him that he needs to fucking _prep_ him first, and if Logan preps him Charles will let him fuck him, he doesn't care, but he can't fuck him like this, it's too dry and it'll hurt. But all that comes out is a few mumbles and then Charles is being put on his front, his hips pulled up so that his ass is at prime positioning for a good fuck. He just about manage to turn his head so that he isn't going to suffocate._ _

__"Logan," Charles groans desperately._ _

__Logan spits liberally in to his hand and lathers the spit at Charles' hole. He roughly inserts two fingers, in and out, in and out, in and out, then Charles hears him spit again, pressumably on his cock this time. There's the obscenely wet sound of Logan jerking off and then Charles feels the head of Logan's cock right at this entrance._ _

__It takes all of Charles' willpower to stammer out, "Logan, no."_ _

__A pause. Heavy breathing from them both; Logan due to arousal and Charles due to horror. Then, a grunt, and Logan pushes in to Charles with force. Charles wails._ _

__Logan fucks him like an animal. It's rough and fast and deep. Charles feels like he's being split open, like he can't catch his breath because all that he can focus on is Logan's cock going in and out of him. Logan grips Charles' hips with the strength of a dying man._ _

__Charles doesn't know how long it goes on. Finally, Logan's thrusts grow even more erratic, until he lets out a loud yell and grabs Charles' hips, holding himself deep inside Charles as he comes fast. Once he's finished, he pulls out, panting, and then lays on the bed. When his breathing evens out Charles realises he is asleep._ _

__Somehow Charles gets to his feet and pulls up his boxer shorts and jeans. He can't take his eyes off Logan, sleeping blissfully on the bed, jeans aroun his ankles. For one terrifying, crazy moment, Charles thinks about putting the pillow over Logan's head and suffocating him. He wonders if he could do it._ _

__He snaps out of it and leaves the party without being noticed. Outside on the street the cool early morning air hits his face. Charles checks his cell phone and finds it has just turned four. He has four texts from Raven, one from Erik, and one from Sean. He thinks about calling one of them, all of them, and crying to them and asking for help._ _

___He doesn't._  
.  
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He surfaces around noon on Saturday and ignores Erik when he finds him downstairs watching Friends. Instead, he heads to the kitchen, makes some toast, and grabs a bottle of wine. When he turns to go upstairs, Erik is in the doorway. 

__He folds his arms. "I would have thought you'd had enough booze for one weekend."_ _

__"You thought wrong," Charles scoffs, attempting to push past his brother. Erik grabs Charles' arm._ _

__"You're not drinking that now," Erik tells him._ _

__"You're not the boss of me," Charles sniggers. "You could have been, but it's _disgusting_ , so you don't get to fucking tell me what to do, alright?"_ _

__Erik stares at him for a few seconds before grabbing the bottle of wine and looking smugly at Charles. Charles thinks about how much he wants Erik, what Erik means to him, what he'd give for Erik to just be honest about his feelings and give in to Charles. It's too fucking much._ _

__He slams the plate of toast on to the breakfast island and then marches upstairs. Erik calls after him, but Charles can barely hear him; he feels anger seeping up his body and he can barely breathe._ _

__When he gets to the bathroom he locks the door. His breathing is loud in his ears as he glances around the bathroom. He spots the razor, brand new, just waiting there beside the mirror. He thinks about it. Is his life that much of a fucking teenage cliche? The sex, the booze, the drugs._ _

__It isn't about that, though. Charles doesn't understand why he wants to do it. Maybe he wants to feel something, maybe he wants to _stop_ feeling something. Maybe, deep down, what he really wants is to hurt himself. To cause damage._ _

__The first time he presses the razor against his skin it doesn't do anything. _Stop being a pussy_ , he tells himself, then bites his lip and presses it down against his wrist, hard. The instant pain takes his breath away, and the razor clatters to the floor, startling him. The blood is brighter than he expected and there is more of it than he thought there would be._ _

__Panic overwhelms him. His breathing is coming in sharp, short bursts, similar to a panic attack, and though the cut isn't very wide, it's quite deep. Charles simply stares at it for a few seconds. When some blood finally drips on to the white bathroom floor, Charles realises what he's done. Before he knows what he's doing, he has opened the bathroom door, and called for his brother._ _

__Erik appears upstairs after the fifth shout, looking mildly concerned, but when he sees Charles' wrist he practicially falls over himself to get to him. He pushes Charles back in to the bathroom, wets a flannel, and presses it hard against Charles' wrist. Erik motions for Charles to sit on the side of the bathtub, and Erik sits across from him._ _

__"What the fuck are you doing?" Erik babbles. "Charles, Jesus Christ, do you realise how serious this is? You could have killed yourself!"_ _

__The tears start, then, hot and pained down Charles' cheeks. Erik is quiet as he dabs at Charles' wound._ _

__With a shaky breath, Charles tells him, "Logan raped me."_ _

__Erik stops his movements on Charles' wrist. He is looking at Charles with an expression that Charles has never seen on anybody in the world before. Charles starts to shake._ _

__"I mean," Charles stammers, "I was wasted, and-and I was in this room, and I w-woke up, and he was fingering me, and then I tried to tell him no, but he just-he just fucked me, and he only used spit-"_ _

__"I'm going to fucking murder the piece of shit," Erik snaps. He continues dabbing at Charles' wound but he's breathing heavily, so angry, unable to look at Charles._ _

__"If I had been able to, and if he had lube, I would have let him," Charles murmurs._ _

__"That doesn't mean it's okay, Charles. If he fucked you, and you didn't want him to, that was _rape_."_ _

__"I was out of it," Charles whispers sadly. "I was so wasted from the booze, and the weed, and the coke-"_ _

__" _Coke_?" Erik practically yells. This time, he lets go of Charles' wrist, and moves away from him, standing by the sink. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you seriously trying to kill yourself? What are you, some fucked up teenage stereotype? Fucking around, getting drunk, and high, and doing _coke_?"_ _

__"I don't know what's wrong with me," Charles sobs, the tears appearing yet again._ _

__"Jesus Christ, Charles. I know you haven't had the best childhood," Erik sighs. "All that shit with your dad, and mom barely giving you a second glance, I _get_ it. But this is just... It's fucking unnecessary."_ _

__Charles hangs his head in shame. He knows that he has been putting himself in serious danger. He _knows_ he's acting like an idiot. But he can't help it._ _

___Erik checks Charles' wrist and mumbles something about getting a plaster. Charles stares down at his lap, tears occasionally running down his face. He isn't expecting Erik to hug him, to cradle him in his arms like a child who has scraped their knee, but he does, and he murmurs kind words in Charles' ear. And it isn't sex, and it isn't a kiss, but it's love, Charles knows it is. He knows that Erik loves him. And maybe that has to be enough._  
.  
.  
.  
.  
 **Nine Years Later**

__Charles held a hand up in front of his face, blocking the fierce gaze of the July sun. England might not usually be the warmest of countries, but it was experiencing a summer heat wave, something that had the British very excited indeed. For Charles, though, it was merely another obstacle to overcome, and something to make his life more difficult._ _

__He made an unimpressed sound as the moving van finally pulled up outside the newly built four bedroomed house. The cul-de-sac was quiet and clean, made up of only nine large houses with spacious gardens and double garages. There was nobody around, and Charles was glad of this as the moving van parked outside, the sounds of an old Blink-182 song playing from the driver's radio._ _

__"You were supposed to be here almost an hour ago," Charles huffed at the driver, who shrugged with uninterest, and passed Charles a form to sign. While he did that, the driver opened up the van, and went about unloading the belongings and taking them in to the house._ _

__Charles was so busy reading the form that he didn't notice someone was standing beside him until he heard an awkward cough. He looked up to see a smiling blonde haired woman, probably in her mid thirties, who was holding a baby to her chest._ _

__"Hello, sorry to bother you. My name is Catherine, I live at number two, I thought I would introduce myself," she offered Charles her hand, and he took it, shaking it as he smiled at her._ _

__"I'm Charles. Lovely to meet you. And you," he chuckled, reaching forward to gently stroke the baby's cheek. The baby gurgled, big blue eyes looking at Charles._ _

__"This is Amerie, she's number four," Catherine beamed._ _

__"Oh wow. Well if I may say, you certainly don't look like a woman who has had four children."_ _

__Catherine blushed and looked down at Amerie. "Thankyou, you're too kind."_ _

__"It's true. I bet you have your work cut out, with four children," Charles said._ _

__"Oh, definitely, but my husband and I wouldn't change them for the world," Catherine smiled warmly at Charles. "And what about you, Charles? Are you married? Children?"_ _

__Charles glanced over at the house and then back at Catherine. "My partner _should_ be here helping me, but he's been called in to work. He owns a vintage record store in London."_ _

__"Oh, marvellous!" Catherine grinned. She hitched Amerie higher on her hip. "Well, Charles, it's lovely to meet you, and if you need anything, please do pop round. Hopefully we'll be seeing more of you."_ _

__"Absolutely, and I'll make sure of it," Charles called, smiling after Catherine as she went back home. She had barely closed her front door when a car appeared on the street, coming to a stop behind the moving van. Charles folded his arms across his chest, mock-angry, and glared in the direction of its driver._ _

__"It's almost three, Erik."_ _

__Erik clambered out of the car, swinging a rucksack over his shoulder. "I know, I know, I'm sorry. I got held up. Raven fucked up the sales figures again and I had to sort the damn thing out."_ _

__Charles walked towards him, shushing him. "You can't swear out here, darling, there are children around."_ _

__"Are there?" Erik's face lit up. "Oh, good. That'll be nice for when Raven brings Kurt to visit."_ _

__Charles nodded in agreement, but his thoughts weren't with Raven. He took the time to look Erik over, in his expensive jeans and his nice shirt, his lovely smile. Then he looked at their new home, their new start, and he felt a pang in his chest. He had truly never been so happy. It had been a bumpy road, and Charles had honestly never expected that this would be the destination, but it was all worth it. It didn't matter to either of them any more. Love is love._ _

__"Come on, love," Erik said softly, reaching out his hand to Charles. "Let's go and set up the jukebox. I want to play one of my Smiths records."_ _

__Charles' face split in to a huge grin. He took Erik's hand._ _

**Author's Note:**

> Thankyou very much for reading my fucked up fic. I hope you liked it. Comments and kudos are very, very much appreciated.


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